That Didn't Happen
by Kalarin
Summary: Mokuba has a very dirty mind. Warning: Contains Noah.


Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-gi-oh.

An Additional Warning: This is one of those stories that looks like something it's not (which is something dirty). It also mentions Kaiba vomiting. If this is too much for you, you probably won't like this story. Also, it contains Noah, so it would probably fall under the category of Alternate Universe.

--

Noah glanced at the clock on the dashboard as he pulled into the driveway. "Just in time," he thought. "It's about time for Seto's next dose."

He grabbed the cold medicine just purchased from Domino's local drugstore. His brother, Seto, had been sick with a virus for a couple of days, and they happened to run out of Dramamine just as he seemed to be facing the worse of it. It didn't help that it took Noah a while to get to the store. The Kaibas didn't live far from the store, but Noah practically had to tie Seto to the bed to stop him from going to his home office to work.

"You really need to stay in bed and rest," Noah had said. "Kaiba Corp. isn't going to crumble just because you took one day off."

Seto was about to answer, but was interrupted by breakfast coming back to visit.

"Here's hoping he actually listened," Noah thought as he removed his purchase from the bag and entered the house.

--

Mokuba had come home early from hanging out with Yugi and the gang. Yugi's grandfather's shop had gotten a new shipment of plastic dominos and dice, and they spent the whole afternoon playing around and building tiny structures from the gaming supplies. It sounded ridiculous in theory, but whoever said so had obviously never felt the satisfaction of building a tiny replica of Stonehenge out of dominos. Nor had they known the joy of creating the Great Pyramids in dice.

He felt somewhat bad about going out and having fun while his brother was so miserable, but Seto had reassured him that he'd be fine. Of course, he'd done so while bent over a bucket, so one must forgive Mokuba for retaining a tiny sliver of guilt.

So here he was, strolling down the long corridors to his older brother's room to check on him. He had no doubt that Noah could take care of Seto, just as long as he remembered to pour the soup out of the can before placing it in the microwave. It would be quite unpleasant to have to pick shards of metal out of the ceiling molding-again. Seto had taken it pretty well, actually. He didn't even get that angry with Noah, which pleased Mokuba. They seemed to be getting closer and closer the longer they lived together.

He ducked into the bathroom for a quick pit stop, then proceeded towards the closed door. He was about to enter when he heard Seto ask weakly, "What's that in your pocket?"

There was a rustling of clothing and Mokuba's hearing kicked into overdrive. "Just this," Noah's voice sounded, along with a zip and more clothing shifting.

"Are you serious? I can't swallow that," Seto protested. Mokuba could hear the bedclothes shuffle and his innocence drawing its last breath.

"But you'll feel better," Noah continued, with more shuffling of fabric. "What the hell is going on in there?" Mokuba wondered. He decided to listen some more, not being one to jump to conclusions.

"It's much too big." Seto's voice faltered with every syllable.

"I'm sure your throat can handle this. I've seen you swallow bigger pieces of meat than this," Noah responded.

"Oh God, when I said I wanted them to be closer, I didn't mean like this!" Mokuba mashed his ear closer to the door to make absolutely sure he was hearing correctly.

"Just put it at the back of your tongue, and when you swallow, it'll just go down," Noah continued.

"Do I have to swallow it whole, though? Couldn't I just cut it up?" Seto asked, accompanied by the creaking of the bed and Mokuba's brain screaming.

"Cut it up? Just like that? But that would get blood on the carpet," the slightly more calm, but less sane, part of Mokuba's brain mused.

"No, you have to take it all at once. It won't work properly if you cut it up," Noah answered, sounding slightly less exasperated than he should (in Mokuba's opinion, anyway).

"Okay." Seto's words were followed by a long silence, then slight retching sounds. "I can't."

"Try it again. Maybe you should try it with water for lubrication."

Mokuba's brain exploded.

"It's too long. Couldn't I just take it in liquid form?" Like Mokuba's brain at this point?

"You can do it. Just sort of gargle it with the water."

More silence, more retching sounds, then a loud splatter.

That was it. Mokuba kicked the door open and bolted in. "WHAT is going on in here?!"

Noah looked up from where he was standing in front of Seto and moved to the side. His fly was firmly closed, unlike the zippered pocket on his jeans. He held a small bottle of Dramamine in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Seto was hunched over a shallow, vomit-filled bedpan in which a partially dissolved, oblong pill could be seen.

"I'm just giving Seto a Dramamine, Mokuba. What did you think I was doing?"

--

I hope I didn't scar anyone for life.


End file.
